A Present
by Cold Steel Night
Summary: Oneshot: Reno comes home one night with a gift from an admirer! But is it all that it seems? RudexReno if you squint.


**Title:** A Present

**Author:** Cold Steel Night / Ami

**Rating:** PG for drinking, if anything.

**Summary:** Oneshot: Reno comes home one night with a present from an admirer! But is it all that it seems? Rude/Reno if you squint.

A/N: Oh God, it emerges!! RUN. But yeah, I'm back with a few pesky plot bunnies. This one's a bit of a stretch for me; if the OOC-ness ticks you off, let me know. Otherwise, on with the show!

--

"Heya, Ruude! Check _thiz_ out!" A slurred and unnaturally gleeful exclamation from the currently invisible doorway.

Rude quietly pinched the bridge of his nose around his sunglasses, still present even after dark. (Hey, he had the lights on, he could see.) There was no doubt as to what his smaller partner had been up to in their hours apart. It was going to be a very long night. For him, at least. It would most likely be a very short night for Reno, depending on what he'd been drinking. Boy just couldn't last when he'd had the hard stuff. (Which was why, if Rude was forced into an excursion, he insisted on their drinking exactly that. An hour and a half, tops. And then Rude had the silence of the night all to himself.)

"Dare I ask?" he muttered when Reno finally figured out that walls weren't meant to be walked into and made his way into the living room where Rude was seated. His response was a sparkling grin that had the corner of the stoic man's mouth creaking upwards.

At least he was a cute drunk.

"Sso, I waz down at the yoo-zhul spot, and there's this sweet lil thing workin' there that hadn' been there before, yeah?" Rude's tiny hint of a smile vanished. Was he going to have to deal with another police complaint? Shacho hadn't exactly been pleased with the last blemish on the public face of his… associates.

"An' I'm bein' real nice and all—" Rude couldn't help but express his doubt with a snort— "An' as I'm goin' ta leave, she says she haz a prezunt for me! And hands me this!" Here the flame-haired man presented the object that had, surprisingly, remained behind his back until now: a hefty unmarked bottle of what could only be something to make Reno even more unstable on his feet than he already was. Rude lifted a brow.

"Whiskey! An' since she waz so generuss, I figgurd I'd do the same and share it with you!" Another grin, and Rude felt himself become temporarily optimistic. Well, Reno _did_ have the looks to make a girl want to do such a thing… And it was highly unlikely if Reno _had_ harassed the girl that he'd come away with a free bottle of liquor. Not to mention that the hard drink meant the redhead would be out like a light in no time. Rude took the bottle and lightly directed the smaller man—by way of a large hand to the chest—to the nearest chair. He complied and Rude moved to the kitchen to retrieve two glasses appropriate enough for the drink.

He returned to Reno twirling a hand in the air and "singing." "La la laaa, la la laaa la la…" Rude was fairly certain Reno could hear a nice tune in his mind, but a quite obvious something was preventing it from reaching his vocal cords. The larger and more coherent of the two shook his head and poured the glasses, depositing one in his friend's now stationary hand.

"Ta _you_, Rude!" Reno grinned again and lifted the glass. The golden liquid would have sloshed onto his wrinkled white shirt if Rude hadn't anticipated something like that and left the glass mostly empty. Reno took no notice.

Rude gave another tiny smile—how could he help it, with those ecstatic pearly whites beaming at him?—and lifted the glass with a shrug. He had no idea why he was being toasted, but he doubted he'd get a decent explanation anyway. His living-with-Reno philosophy: Go with it.

He knocked back the drink, and out of habit had one full gulp down before he really started to taste what was in his mouth.

And promptly spat it everywhere, choking on the quantity he'd already swallowed. "What the _hell_?!" That was definitely _not_ any whiskey _he'd_ ever had, or wanted to have.

Rude examined the offending bottle with a sniff… And frowned deeply.

"Water and soy sauce." Seriously, that was just cruel. "The hell did you do to that girl, Reno?" Rude glanced to his right—

And cringed. Reno's glass was empty.

"Aaaahhh! Thass some good stuff! Eh, Rude?"

The man in question tried not to gag and snatched the glass from his smaller friend. He didn't even want to _think_ about what he'd been drinking to prevent him from noticing soy sauce, _diluted_ soy sauce at that, sliding down his throat instead of hard liquor.

"Yeah… uh… Listen, I'm gonna get us something else…" Rude again muttered and snuck from the room to pour the vengeful concoction down the sink.

He was distracted from his task by a forceful knock at the door. 'Oh no.' Rude had no choice but to answer it. With any luck, it was just some drunk who'd mistaken their abode for his own and…

Rude apparently had no luck. Two uniformed men stood on the other side of the threshold, hands semi-casually on their hips. The shorter one of the two, apparently the designated talker, began his speech swiftly. "Sir, we've…" He trailed off momentarily upon realizing that he was addressing Rude's thick, suit-clad chest. He sheepishly lifted his gaze several inches and continued with the same detached cop-confidence. "We've received a complaint about a man named Reno, and were told we could find him here. Do you know this man, sir?"

"Unfortunately," was Rude's quiet reply. "He's indisposed. I'll give him the message." His face and voice remained expressionless, not really wanting to antagonize the law enforcers any more than his partner already had, but it seemed that he could intimidate without trying. Who knew.

The silent officer was already backing his way to the car as the talker tipped his hat. "Thank you, sir. We'd like to hear no more trouble out of him; I'm sure you understand." The shorter man decided that backwards retreats were in style and made one of his own. "You have a good evening."

"Yeah." The officers were too far away by this point to hear the response, so Rude simply closed the door and opted to talk to himself instead. "And a _great_ day tomorrow, when Shacho finds out…"

"Hey, Rude! Who ya talkin' to?" floated in from the nearby room, and Rude trudged back to his chair, their "drink" mostly forgotten.

"Friends of yours," he rumbled, flopping back into the cushy seat.

Reno finally seemed to catch on to the negativity of the situation and managed to stand. "Eheheheh… Really, now?" he laughed nervously, and Rude swore he could see the giant sweatdrop crawl down the side of his crimson head. Reno, too, was stylish with his exit; again with the backwards walking. He paused at the doorway, only for a moment, a hand on the doorframe to steady his imminent dash for escape. Rude knew the routine.

"Night!" the redhead quipped, and with that, he was off. Apparently he could still run for cover even when plastered. 'Imagine that.'

"Won't do any good," Rude mumbled, only half to his partner since he was now well out of earshot. "I know where you sleep."

--

If it's necessary, "shacho" means "boss" or refers to a CEO; he means Rufus.

Was it dreadful? Bearable? I'll never know without your help!


End file.
